


Lucky Roll

by N16



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: And he accidentally has an emotion, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), But not like actually angry, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, No fits of rage, Post-Magic Reveal, Snarky Merlin, angry arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16
Summary: Months after Arthur learns about Merlin’s magic, he suddenly realizes the truth about all of those games of dice. He is not happy.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 212





	Lucky Roll

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry. I’m working on two multi-chapters WIPs and the bonus scene for Holes and swore I would prioritize those before I started anything else. But then this happened and I couldn’t stop it. It’s short and light and fluffy though, which made for a nice break!

“Merlin!”

The sorcerer paused and glanced down the hall in the direction of the familiar shout. The king stood outside his chambers, glaring his direction.

“Arthur?”

Arthur jerked his head toward the door, then stormed back inside. Puzzled, Merlin followed obediently.

“ _Baern,_ ” he muttered as he closed the door behind him, and the candles around the room sparked to life, allowing him a better look at the fury on Arthur’s face. The king lowered himself into his chair at the table, glowering at Merlin and drumming his fingers on the arm. With another jerk of his head, he gestured to the end of the table, motioning for Merlin to move.

He knew Arthur just meant he wanted Merlin more easily in his line of sight, but Merlin deliberately misunderstood and took a seat, prompting Arthur to narrow his eyes even further.

This was more than his “You’re late _again?_ ” anger, but certainly less than his “What do you mean you’re a _sorcerer?_ ” anger. Quickly, Merlin played back the last few days, trying to recall anything that might have prompted the current expression on his friend’s face.

“If this is about the thing in the armory earlier,” he said nervously, “it was all Gwaine’s idea. I just—”

“What thing in the armory earlier?” Arthur cut in suspiciously.

“Okay. Not about that then,” Merlin muttered under his breath. “It was nothing. And it’s all fixed now.”

Arthur didn’t press for details, which was a bad sign. Not that Merlin wanted to explain the chaos from that morning, but he knew it was the kind of story Arthur would merely roll his eyes at. And it would have been nice to distract him from whatever was on his mind, because Arthur was definitely _not_ rolling his eyes now.

“The tavern,” the king said finally. Merlin waited for him to elaborate, but Arthur just sat in silence, staring.

“Arthur, I haven’t been the tavern in months!” he protested in confusion. “Not since we went together, the night before…”

_The night before you found out I had magic_.

Arthur had the good grace to look away for a moment, a flicker of shame in his eyes as they both remembered the weeks following. But those wounds were mostly healed at this point, and the memory didn’t derail him for long.

“I remember that night at the tavern," he said. "I remember _several_ nights at the tavern, actually. You were usually the one who talked me into going. Me, you, and the knights. A few drinks. A few _games of dice_.”

Merlin blinked a couple of times, and then his eyes widened.

Uh oh.

“As I recall, you had the most _extraordinary_ luck at dice, Merlin. Particularly against me.”

He tried for a cheeky grin. “I always have been very lucky, sire. Especially with dice.”

“You cheated.”

Merlin made a thoughtful face. “Would we call that cheating?”

Arthur let out a noise through his nose was somewhere between a snarl and a growl. It kind of reminded Merlin of a boar about to charge.

“I mean,” the warlock hurried on, “it’s not like we ever technically said magic was against the rules of the game.”

“Magic was against the rules of Camelot!” Arthur cried. “Which automatically made it against the rules of the game! We also never technically said you were not allowed to murder your opponent, but everyone had a basic understanding that the laws of the kingdom also applied to the rules of the game!”

“But the laws against magic were unjust,” Merlin pointed out. “And I broke them all the time anyway.”

Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation. “They were _not_ unjust when applied to a game of dice! Just how much of my money did you take?”

Merlin shrugged. “None. I won your money, and it became my money. And _then_ I took it.”

Merlin should have seen it coming.

Arthur had learned all too quickly that throwing things at Merlin didn’t work anymore; not when the sorcerer could just stop the object midair. And had he been Percival, perhaps that would have been the end of it. But Arthur wasn’t a great warrior simply due to brute strength; he was quick and strategic. The trick to throwing things at Merlin now was to retain the element of surprise. Because while his magic was more than sufficient to stop a flying object, his reflexes were not necessarily quick enough if his guard wasn’t up.

“ _Ow!_ ” Merlin yelled as the peach hit his shoulder, bursting open and splattering all over him.

“That didn’t hurt,” Arthur snapped. “It was half rotten anyway.”

It was true. It had been far too mushy to hurt. Still, Merlin scowled as he began trying to clean it up.

“You must have stolen a small _fortune_ from me over the years,” Arthur continued.

“Didn’t steal it.”

“What did you even _do_ with all that money? I never saw you buy anything. Hell, you make three times as much money now that you’re Court Sorcerer, and you’re still wearing those same rags!”

“I sent it to my mother,” he said mildly, still focused on pulling peach guts out of his shirt. Giving up, he muttered a quick spell and the mess vanished.

Much like Arthur’s anger.

The king pursed his lips, then let out a loud sigh. “Okay, that’s not playing fair. Just because you sent it to your mother—”

“She bought a cow,” Merlin cut in, seeing freedom and making a run for it. “Now she has fresh milk every day. Not only her, but others in Ealdor too.”

Arthur groaned. “But it _wasn’t your money!_ ”

“Was too.”

Arthur just glared again, and Merlin tried to hide his smirk. Because the king wasn’t angry about the money anymore. He was angry because he knew he couldn’t win.

“You know I would have _bought_ your mother a cow,” he said finally. “You didn’t need to steal from me.”

“I—”

“You didn’t need to take my money through dishonest means,” Arthur amended, rolling his eyes. “Which still counts as stealing.” He paused then, his anger replaced by awkwardness. “I’m serious, though. If your mother ever needs anything…”

Merlin couldn’t help smiling. He was touched by the offer, and he enjoyed seeing the king squirm when he was afflicted with _feelings_. “I can take care of my mother, Arthur.”

“By stealing from me. I should make you work it off.”

“I’m not your servant anymore,” he reminded him.

“I could still make you muck out the stables.”

“Go for it.” It would take Merlin about two minutes to do it with magic, and he wouldn’t even need to move from the doorway. Which Arthur knew perfectly well, having seen it done.

“I could put you in the stocks.”

Merlin snorted at that. “And how do you propose to _keep_ me in the stocks?”

“Honor system,” Arthur said loftily. “I’m the king, after all. As Court Sorcerer, you swore to serve me.”

“Locking myself in the stocks does nothing to serve you or Camelot. Besides, you already threw fruit at me. Isn’t that enough?”

Arthur huffed. “I’ll come up with something, Merlin. You better watch your back.”

Merlin grinned and pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll be sure to do that, sire.”

As he walked to the door, his eyes flashed gold for just a moment, and a second peach dropped before it could hit the back of his head, landing on the floor with a splat.

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: Three weeks later, a knight of Camelot shows up at Hunith's door with a goat and two chickens. Arthur denies all knowledge of said event.
> 
> (Idea courtesy of gatoradeeh7x3)


End file.
